


Saturday at Citadel

by fiercy, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill [13]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Superman RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercy/pseuds/fiercy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG <a href="http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read">Citadel</a>. If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed <a href="http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Saturday at Citadel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read). If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed [here](http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1).

It feels weird to be back at Citadel, this time actually entering the club with Henry at his side, and Chris flashes a grin at his boy, reaching out for his hand as they show their ID and head for the shop. "Have you ever been in here before?" he asks.

Henry nods, linking their fingers together. "I've wandered through. Never bothered with anything for at home, though, except the cuffs but I even bought those online."

"I've only taken a quick look before," Chris says, adding with another smile, "There didn't seem to be any point." But this time there does and he leads Henry to the back where the jewelled cases hold all sorts of treasures, including collars.

"I never thought I'd have a reason to look at these," Henry admits, the softly gleaming look of the leather and the heady smell making him want to touch it. He glances up at Chris and grins. "You're blowing all sorts of preconceived notions out of the water."

"Good. I just hope you don't become bored with me when there's no real surprises left," Chris says with a smile, mostly teasing. He motions to the salesclerk who is just finishing ringing up a sale.

"Yeah... I'm not seeing boredom as a problem," Henry shoots back, chuckling and eyeing a particularly nice looking collar with a mix of metal and leather.

Chris laughs.

"Yes, sir," the salesclerk says, a petite blonde with shoulder-length hair which she tucks behind her ear as she approaches. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a collar," Chris replies. "A collar of consideration for my boy here," his arm tucked protectively around Henry's waist, pulling him close.

It feels good, both the protective stance and the words "my boy," and Henry leans against Chris slightly, smiling a dazzling smile at the young woman behind the counter. His arm slipping around Chris's waist in return, he lets the slight fuzz of headspace in just a little bit.

Barb smiles. "Traditionally, a collar of consideration is a shade of blue but many people these days go for whatever colour pleases them, including black," she says. "Do you have a preference?"

Chris rubs his free hand over his jaw, thinking. "I'd think we'd like to go with the traditional if there's something we like. Then it'll give us somewhere to go from."

"I like the sound of that," Henry answers, his eyes playing over the blue collars, from subtly tinted to full out electric lame.

"What about this one?" Barb asks, sliding out a simple half-inch medium blue leather collar with a silver buckle. "It wouldn't hold up to heavy-duty play but it's a lovely piece and might serve your needs for now."

It's not quite what Chris is looking for but he nudges Henry anyway. "What do you think?" He wants his boy to like and be proud of whatever he puts on his neck.

Henry glances between the collar she's pulled and another one, a mix of blue and black leather, with the ability to buckle or lock. "Can we see that one?" he asks, giving her a dazzling smile.

"Of course. This one is a locking collar," she says, setting the one collar down on top of the cases and handing the one Henry pointed out over to Chris. "We sell padlocks separately and it's a much wider collar. It definitely reminds the boy or girl that they're under their dominant's control."

Now this is more what Chris had in mind. He turns it over in his hands, checking the inside. It's soft, the leather still fairly supple, and he thinks it would be comfortable enough for long scenes or even all day use. "You like this one better?" he asks Henry.

"I do," Henry answers simply. Taking his eyes from the collar he looks up into Chris's eyes and grins. His excitement must be showing.

Chris holds it up to Henry's neck, trying to get a better idea of how it will look on his boy. He supposes he could have him try it on but he doesn't want to do that until it's actually theirs. "This one," he says with a nod, handing it back. "We'll take it."

Barb smiles. "I'll get you a brand new one from the back," she says, disappearing behind a curtain.

A flash of arousal flips through Henry, and he reaches out for Chris's hand. "I'm trying to savor this," he says quietly. "I'm having a little trouble staying in the moment."

Chris links their fingers together and kisses Henry gently on the mouth. "Do you want me to put it on here or wait until we're in the room?" he asks, wanting whatever would make it better for Henry.

"The room, please." There's a kind of mythos that goes with collaring in Henry's mind. "I'd rather be alone with you so I can take a moment and savor this. It's another something I thought I'd never have."

"Okay." Chris nods, kissing Henry again. He checks the collar when the salesclerk comes back with a brand new one in a lovely black velvet box, making sure it's as soft all over as the one they checked out from the case and then has it put on his account so they can make a quick getaway. They go back to the front desk and register for a room, Chris taking the time to make sure it'll have everything he wants. And then they head for the elevators, the collar and keycard in hand.

There are butterflies breeding hummingbirds breeding pterodactyls in Henry's gut as they move through the motions that will get them upstairs. Already his breath has quickened and the heat of arousal licks at his thighs, threatening to spread like a brush fire through the rest of him. And to top off all the sexual tension there's the knowledge that soon he'll be wearing Chris's collar. The whole situation is making him a little dizzy, and he finds himself bouncing slightly on his toes with restlessness in the elevator.

"You're going to spontaneously combust if I don't get this on you soon, aren't you?" Chris teases, but he loves how Henry's reacting to this, how much he's embraced the idea, once they got past the clash of definitions this morning.

"That obvious, am I?" Henry grins, gently bumping against Chris's shoulder. "I feel like it will help ground me some, too."

The elevator comes to a stop and Chris takes Henry's hand, tugging him down the hall to their room. He slides the keycard through the reader and turns on the light, nodding at what he finds inside. The usual hotel set-up with bed and desk and a nice comfy chair to one side and the not-so-usual toy cabinets and black leather-padded spanking bench on the other. "Take your clothes off and kneel in the centre of the room," he tells Henry.

Glancing around the room has Henry swallowing back a low whistle. "Yes, sir," he finally remembers to say, quickly stripping off and laying his clothes to the side before striding to the center of the room. He goes to his knees one knee at a time, setting his position, palms on his thighs as he waits, pulse thumping in his ears.

Henry is so beautiful it steals Chris's breath away. And he takes a long moment to just look at him, at that perfect posture, that beautiful face. But finally, he removes the collar from its box and steps in front of Henry. He's not entirely sure what he's going to say so he starts out slowly, "I'm offering you this collar of consideration because I want to be your Sir and I want you to be my boy and I want others to look at your collar and know you belong to me. I want us to learn together and to take this first six months to find out how you can best please and serve me and how I can be the best Sir for you. Do you accept?"

Each word settles Henry's nerves just a little bit more and ramps up his excitement in the same measure. He's not sure where Chris stands on eye contact, but in this moment it seems important, and he holds his gaze as he answers, his voice clear and sure. "Yes, Sir, I accept."

Chris unbuckles the collar and places it around Henry's throat, refastening it tightly but not too tight. "It looks beautiful on you," he says, cupping Henry's cheek in his hand.

The leather, snugging against his Adam's apple has Henry swallowing as he leans into Chris's touch. "It feels good," he murmurs. "Thank you, Sir."

"You can stand now. Undress me," Chris says, fighting the urge which says he should throw Henry down and claim him right now, seal the deal, hard on the floor.

"Yes, sir." Standing up might be a bit harder than it sounds, though. He's trembling, and he has to fight the urge to touch his throat, to feel the leather there. He shakes his head slightly, clearing it, getting his focus back where it belongs... on Chris.

Smiling slightly, he begins with Chris's shirt, his palms flat against his skin as he eases it over his head and folds it carefully. "Sir? May I ask a question?" He doesn't wait for an answer before he's working at his fly.

"Yeah, of course," Chris says, watching Henry, unable to take his eyes off his boy for even a moment.

"Eye contact... do you want me to avoid your eyes?" Henry asks softly, unzipping his pants but stopping there, crouching to work on his shoes.

"Only when you're waiting for me on your knees or I've ordered you to," Chris says.

"Keeping my eyes off of you is tough," Henry admits with a smile, touching the inside of Chris's knee gently to urge him to lift his foot. He finishes with his shoes and socks quickly and stands again. "You're way too hot."

"And you've got gorgeous eyes," Chris says with a smile, tugging Henry in close and kissing him hard on the mouth. "I'd hate to deprive myself of looking into them."

The clash of lips and the press of bodies has Henry's cock jerking, a soft sound of need issuing from his throat. "God, I want you," he murmurs, hooking his thumbs into Chris's waistband and pushing off his jeans.

"You can have me," Chris murmurs back, kissing his way along Henry's jaw. "But not just yet."

A frisson of excitement has Henry shivering in Chris's arms, his head tilting to allow more access. "Yes, Sir. Not yet." He's got a feeling that he's going to enjoy the delay.

Chris smiles, nibbling his way down Henry's throat and over his collar before finally drawing back. "I want you over the bench," he says, his cock hardening still further at the mere thought.

Glancing over at the simple piece of furniture has Henry shivering again, this time in anticipation. He murmurs an acknowledgment and steps back, his cock jutting hard and prominent from his body. The fine tremble of arousal begins again as he climbs up onto the bench and settles himself. The vulnerable position only ramps up his desire.

"God, look at you," Chris murmurs, hissing in a breath. He moves behind Henry, spreading his cheeks with his thumbs. Opening his boy for inspection.

The cool air in the room stroking over his exposed hole has goose bumps pebbling his skin. Henry's breath hitches and he moans softly, a blush spreading from his ass cheeks to his face in the space of a few seconds. Exposed. Examined. _Christ._

"This looks like it needs to be filled," Chris murmurs, opening Henry even more. "Filled and stretched and made ready to be fucked."

"Oh God, yes, please," Henry groans. He remains still under the press and pull of Chris's hands, unwilling to miss a single sensation.

That groan goes straight to Chris's cock which is already jutting out from his body, hard and thick and swollen, the head leaking, fluid welling at the tip. He steps back, releasing his hold on Henry's cheeks and gives them a sharp smack before heading for the cabinets.

Jerking slightly from the blow and yelping softly, Henry lets the stinging warmth spread through him and he smiles as Chris comes into his view. "You're truly magnificent you know," he says quietly. "Just watching you excites me."

"Will you still feel that way even when I'm not as buff?" Chris asks, pulling a thick black plug from one drawer and a wooden paddle from another.

"It's your attitude and confidence, your grace, that make you magnificent." The glimpse of the plug and the paddle have Henry's stomach tensing up with delicious dread as he fights not to shift and squirm with anticipation.

Chris stops for a moment and just smiles. "You have a real way with words," he tells his lover, taking a good long look at him, bent over the bench, his ass in the air. Beautiful.

It's still new between them, the blush of novelty still on the relationship. The compliments that they're trading still bear the mark of discovery and it warms Henry, even as he kneels there waiting for Chris to hurt him... to _use_ him. The dichotomy is intoxicating and the first buzz of subspace begins to encroach.

"Would you like a cock ring?" Chris asks.

"Yes, please, Sir, if I'll be holding back for you." Denial and control just haven't been the focus of his play in the past.

"This time you will be," Chris nods, picking out a black leather cock ring with snaps. "In fact, from now on, unless you have permission, you're not to come."

That statement puts Henry straight back into his head, the pleasant fuzziness fading. Henry's not great at holding out when things get intense. That Chris says that like it's an easy thing has him slightly worried. Enough so that he forgets to answer.

"Don't look so worried," Chris says, coming back to the spanking bench. "I'll give you a cock ring most of the time and when I don't, I won't push you as hard. We'll work on it together."

"I don't want to fuck things up," Henry says by way of explanation. "Thank you for reminding me that I don't have to do this alone."

Chris touches Henry's cheek, thumb stroking over his skin as he leans down to kiss his temple. "I'm not the kind of dom who likes to push boys to fuck up just so I can punish them."

Henry soaks up the touch like a cat in a beam of sunlight, smiling at the light touch of Chris's lips. "I should have known that," he murmurs, settling deeper into the leather of the bench. "I don't want to disappoint you." He blushes, then, muttering the next confession quietly, "Though I must admit ego has something to do with it, too." Truth to your dom in all things, right?

"So then I should push some, yes? Force you to challenge yourself?" Chris reaches between Henry's legs and snaps the cock ring around his balls and cock.

The matter of fact way Chris handles him tips Henry back toward the right frame of mind. "Yes, Sir. Please challenge me," he murmurs, goose bumps raising fine hairs all over him.

Chris slicks the plug with lube and teases the tip over and around Henry's hole.

Taken by surprise after the casual talk by the cold of the lube against his still sensitive ass, Henry sucks in a breath, his body tightening involuntarily for a moment. He chuffs softly, glancing back at Chris and forcing himself to relax. "Surprise," he says with a quiet chuckle, drawing up his knees another half inch to give Chris more room to work.

"I'm keeping you on your toes," Chris murmurs, smiling, working the tip into Henry and then slowly twisting it deeper.

His already sore arse is determined to give very slowly this evening, it seems, and Henry hisses at the burn and stretch as he faces the first challenge of the evening. A deep breath and a hard exhale and he's pushing back subtly to take the plug, a murmured curse on his lips. His cock? It's smearing evidence of just how much he likes it all over the spanking bench.

"You're tight," Chris murmurs, forcing the plug a little deeper, careful not to push more than Henry can take. "Must be sore."

"It hurts," Henry acknowledges, then smiles, pushing back still more. "Feels good."

"Maybe I'm making it too easy on you," Chris says, twisting the plug in a little harder until it's fully seated, Henry's body opening up, stretching to take it.

Henry exhales harshly as the plug finally settles inside, his body yielding, then gripping the latex securely. The cool of the leather under his cheek has him rubbing against it sensually as he considers Chris's words. "Your pace, Sir," he finally murmurs, "but I want to show you what I can take for you."

"You will," Chris assures him, running a hand over Henry's hip before he steps back and takes a good long look at Henry's perfect, unblemished cheeks, his hand tightening around the handle of the wooden paddle.

The cool current of air as Chris steps away kicks off a new spate of goose bumps. He glances back one more time and the sight of Chris standing there, looking so powerful, holding a paddle that's sure to feel _horribly_ good, has him catching his breath. He turns his head again, gripping the edges of the bench, nerves standing on end as he waits.

Grinning, his cock already aching, Chris pops Henry on one cheek and then the other, and again, slowly warming up.

The sound of wood on flesh is a very particular sound. Just like the slight yelp that sounds from Henry from the first blow from over-anticipation. The warmth spreads evenly over his skin as the room quiets again, and he becomes aware of his own quickened breath. He settles quickly, hungry for more.

Chris carries on, popping one cheek followed by the other and then both, the paddle rocking the plug into Henry's hole.

Rocking slightly with each blow, Henry's sharp exhalations fill the room as sensation rockets through him. The burst of pain followed by a slow, flushed pleasure has him whispering a thank you as he grips tight around the plug, then relaxes for the next blow.

Chris slowly increases the force behind the paddle, watching as Henry's cheeks turn from a rosy pink to more of a fire engine red, still popping one cheek and then the other with an occasional hit to the base of the plug.

It's getting harder to remain still with each blow, the pain coming in brilliant flashes, punctuated with his cries. Pleasure comes with the rocking of the plug within, a sweet haze beginning ease the rough edges of the spanking.

"More, boy, or do you want me to stop?" Chris asks, pausing to rub the paddle over Henry's heated flesh.

"Please don't stop," Henry murmurs. "More, please?" He badly wants to be fucked, but the pain is just too good to let go so easily.

"I think you've forgotten something, boy. More please what?" Chris prompts.

 _Shit. Where's your brain? Oh... right. In a fuzzy white cloud. No excuse._ "Sir," he says quietly but clearly. "I'm sorry, Sir." Now both sets of cheeks are red.

"Much better," Chris says, waiting a beat before laying into Henry again, increasing the force between the strikes once more. His cock swollen and wet at its tip, aching to replace that plug.

It's the blow that catches him under his ass cheeks and against the plug at the same time that does it. Henry's cry is agonized and he jerks out of position momentarily, though he quickly resets and settles back into place. There are tears coursing down his cheeks now, his breath ragged, and he shifts and tilts his head a bit on the bench until he can see Chris. There. Strong and present and right there, looking after him.

"Good boy," Chris murmurs. "Not long now," he promises, tapping the length of Henry's cock with the paddle.

 _Fuck_! Pain bursts through Henry, setting his head spinning and plastering a stupid grin on his face. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, shuddering with need.

So hard it takes all he has to keep going, Chris taps one side of Henry's cock and then the other with the paddle, his cock jerking with every strike, with every indication Henry loves this. Is getting off on this as much as he is.

The tears have slowed down, but they haven't stopped. Henry's bathed in sweat as he enters the circle of pleasure-pain-pleasure-agony-pleasure that comes from Chris's deft hand on the paddle, and he can't keep the sharp barks of response back with each connection. It's all fucking perfect, even in the brief fraction of a moment after each strike when he wonders if he can take more.

It's tempting to push harder, find out just how much Henry can take before it's too much, but Chris doesn't want to risk screwing this up. He's so proud of Henry already, so impressed, and he needs to let Henry know that. Give him what he's earned. He sets the paddle aside and moves between Henry's legs, running his hands over his lover's heated flesh, gripping his cheeks and digging his nails in hard.

It's a new kind of pain and Henry yelps--loudly--his muscles tensing around the plug which has him whimpering and... it's all turning and tumbling around in his head now, Chris the only constant, and he fixates on those gripping hands and on the fullness of his ass and centers himself there. "Sir," he gasps.

"Go ahead, boy," Chris says, twisting the plug from Henry's hole. "Tell me what you want. Beg for it," he demands, spreading Henry wide open with his thumbs.

"Oh Christ thank you please fuck me," Henry says, all in one big rush of breath as his body tries to clamp down on _something_. "Please, Sir, please I need your cock inside me, bloodyfuckinghell _please_!" Articulation in these moments isn't really an option.

Chris doesn't wait any longer. Couldn't if he wanted to. He lines up between his thumbs and pushes in, groaning at how slick and hot and tight Henry is, despite the plug. Raking his nails over Henry's reddened flesh as he sinks himself deep, bottoming out with that first rough thrust.

The electric shock of that connection leaves Henry shaken, one hand reaching back toward Chris for a moment before gripping the bench again. He has a feeling he's going to need the help to hang on. He sobs out a triumphant sound of pleasure, wanting to move, not sure if he's allowed.

Chris drives into Henry, pouring every last ounce of pent-up arousal into his thrusts. Fucking his boy so hard his teeth actually ache with it.

That's when Henry figures out that he couldn't fuck Chris back if he'd been ordered to. He's moving too fast, taking him too hard and Henry's reveling in every bang of flesh against flesh. There's no censor of the shouts forced from him each time Chris ploughs forward, no way would he hold back his response. It all belongs to Chris and Henry gives it up willingly.

"Ohh, I'm gonna fill you," Chris says, squeezing the hell out of Henry's already abused cheeks as he pounds into him. "Mark your hole as mine."

"Yes... please... fuck... sir!" Henry spurts out, the words pushed from him, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears as the pain builds and explodes into a brilliant rush of pleasure. "Gonna... I'm..." The ring helps, but Henry's suddenly not sure it will be enough.

"Go ahead, boy," Chris growls, holding out as long as he can. "If you can come like this, you've got permission."

It feels like his cock is going to explode. When he comes it's with a shout of pain and pleasure and triumph and _joy_. It leaves him panting, grateful for the bench beneath him holding him up.

It blows Chris's mind that Henry came through the cock ring. That he drove his boy to be that desperate, that aroused, that not even the ring could stop him. He thrusts through the clenching of Henry's body, and then comes, shouting, spurting hot and thick and heavy into his boy's hole.

Henry shudders underneath him one more time, the sounds of passion coming from Chris ringing through him, layering over the sexual bliss and rocketing him into a new orbit. He's trying to listen for more, to be sure he doesn't miss a command but he's pretty sure he's toast if he has to move.

Stilling completely, Chris runs his hands over Henry's hips and lower back, simply savouring the feel of him, his cock still buried deep inside his lover. "Good boy," he says softly, nodding to himself. "Such a good boy for me."

The praise seeps under the afterglow, jacking up the effects of subspace. "Thank you, sir. Chris..." Peeling his fingers off of the bench, he reaches back toward his lover.

"I'm here," Chris says, linking his fingers with Henry's and draping himself over him, soft kisses pressed along his shoulders.

The pressure against his sore skin has him smiling. The kisses have him sighing. But Chris's very presence, the way he covers him so completely, makes him feel so safe, that's the icing on the cake. "You're brilliant," he muses, still floating a bit.

"And you're amazing," Chris murmurs, smiling broadly. "Let me get you into bed," he says, easing out slowly and helping Henry to his feet. "Anything you want, other than water?"

"Just you," Henry murmurs, hanging onto Chris's hand and staying close.

Henry given water and tucked into bed, Chris slides in beside him, pulling his boy close. "You make me really happy," he says softly, kissing Henry's temple, right along his hairline.

Shifting the tiniest bit closer, Henry presses a kiss to Chris's shoulder, sighing softly. "And you me," he murmurs.


End file.
